


No One Listens To Eliot (The Eliot Gets Parker A Dog Job)

by AlannaofRoses



Category: Leverage
Genre: Give Team Leverage A Dog In The Reboot, I Solemnly Swear I Am Not John Rogers, Kinda Leaning Into Eliot/Quinn Territory, Multi, Puppy Aquisition, Self-Indulgent, Team Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:29:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24402091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlannaofRoses/pseuds/AlannaofRoses
Summary: Eliot isn't sure any of this is a good idea, but he is also pretty sure he never had much choice in the matter.
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer, Molly Connell/Olivia Sterling
Comments: 23
Kudos: 162





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a Tumblr post that was like 'scenes I want to see in the reboot', and one of them was Eliot telling Quinn Parker wanted a dog.

“So how’s the pub doing?” Quinn asked, delivering a nasty uppercut to a guard and ducking another’s baton.

“Fine.” Eliot grunted as he took a fist to the chest before kicking the legs out from under the guy who had hit him. “No robberies lately.” He sounded almost disappointed.

Quinn chuckled, twisting a man’s arm up and around until he whimpered. “And the family?” He slammed his knee into the man’s nose and dropped him to the floor.

“Hardison modified the earbuds again and I had a headache for a week.” Eliot ducked a wild swing before putting the last guy down. “Oh, and Parker wants a dog.”

Quinn looked up. “A dog? Awesome? What kind?”

Eliot scowled. “I never said I was actually…”

“Cause you should get a Malinois.” Quinn continued over him. “Super friendly, super loyal, and they can be trained as guard and attack dogs. Parker would love it, and it could be your backup if you need a little extra muscle.”

“Hey, who says I need backup…”

Quinn was ignoring him, typing something into his phone. “I know this great breeder, she mostly raises ‘em for the army and police work and stuff but I bet I could get you a puppy.”

“Now wait a second, I ain’t potty training a puppy…”

“It’ll be a little expensive, but I know that not really a problem for you guys. Look, I gotta catch my flight, got that other job to get to. I’ll give her a call, see what I can do. Nice hanging out, Eliot!”

A moment later, Eliot stood alone in the doorway, a trail of groaning men behind him.

He sighed.

Sure enough, two months later, just in time for Christmas, Quinn walked into the Brewpub with a cardboard box cradled gently.

Eliot’s expecting him, has been ever since he got the pics of a litter of five gorgeous pups curled against their mother. Four russet brown males and a near-solid black female. It had been an easy choice.

He gives Amy a nod, and she slides in to take his place in the line effortlessly. Since her adventures with Parker, she had grown ever more confident in the kitchen, finding that food was its own type of art. He leaves the line in her capable hands and motions Quinn up the stairs.

Parker, who is perched on a table checking over one of her harnesses, squeals when she sees them, launching herself across the room at Quinn. He’s forced to quickly hand off the box to Eliot to prevent it from getting smashed as Parker jumps at him.

“Merry Christmas!” She shrieks in his ear, and he winces a bit but grins at her.

Hardison, typing at something on his computer, looks up. “Hey man. Long time no see. What brings you to Portland?”

Parker has disentangled herself, and before Quinn can answer, she has plastered herself against Eliot, staring at the box. “Ooh what is that?” She extends an index finger to poke the side. “Is that a Christmas present?”

Eliot sighs, but he can’t quite hide the twitch of his lips. “Yes, Parker, it’s a Christmas present. And before you ask, yes, it is for you.”

Parker squeals again, clapping her hands. “Is it money? Is it diamonds? Oh! Did you send Quinn to go steal me that statue I wanted?”

The box squeaks.

Everyone freezes.

“Not money.” Parker whispers almost reverently.

Eliot sets the box on the floor and lifts the flap. A tiny black snout pokes out of the top, followed by two dark eyes and a cocked silky ear.

The dog and Parker regard each other for a long, silent moment.

“Oh.” Parker’s eyes are round as saucers as she looks at Eliot, then back to the puppy waiting patiently.

There’s a soft swishing as a tiny tail begins to wag.

Parker melts to the floor, reaching in and pulling out the puppy to cradle to her chest. “You got me a dog.”

“Yeah, Parker. I did.” If Eliot’s voice is a little rougher than usual, Quinn studiously doesn’t notice.

Hardison, thankfully, breaks the moment. “Aw, man! You got her a dog? What if I was allergic to dogs, man? Ever think about that? No I bet you didn’t.”

“Are you?” Eliot deadpans, not even bothering to look at him.

“Well, no, but that ain’t the point man. You just, bring home a dog outta the blue.” Hardison’s voice is somewhere in the upper atmosphere.

Quinn blinks at Eliot, who shrugs and turns to Parker.

“He’s just mad cause he made me a new robot this year and he knows I’m gonna like the puppy better.” Parker says, her face buried in the dog’s fur.

“Damn it man!” Hardison sulks. “You won the last three Christmases. I was so ready this time! And Parker, how did you even know I made you a new robot? Have you been opening your Christmas presents early again? We had this conversation mama!”

Parker just shrugs and sets the puppy on Hardison’s shoe.

“He is a cute little thing, isn’t he.” The hacker admitted, crouching to stroke the silky fur.

Parker stands in one smooth motion and walks over, stopping right in front of Eliot. “Thank you. I love my Christmas present.” When she kisses him, Quinn takes his cue and heads down to the bar for a drink.

The next day, they have acquired everything they needed to raise a puppy, and Eliot had been briefed on the dog’s commands by Quinn, who had left to spend his own Christmas after many hugs from Parker and a delicious breakfast spread from Eliot. Hardison had slipped him a new phone as he left, instructing him not to lose this one in a river. Which, really, the hacker needed to stop bringing that up, it was one time.

Eliot had spent the better part of the morning training the dog on the puppy pads to prevent accidents, and Parker had sorted through the frankly ridiculous number of toys she had acquired for the dog.

They had just about everything squared away, except, of course, for the most important thing.

“So what’s her name?” Hardison asked, scratching the dog behind the ears. She was curled up in his lap as he worked on something on his laptop.

“We should name her Molly.” Parker said absently as she ripped open a bag of tennis balls.

“Molly like carnival girl Molly?” Hardison asked.

“Yeah.” Parker nodded. “She reminds me of her, all tough and fierce on the outside and all sweet and soft on the inside.”

“Parker, you can’t just name a dog after someone without asking.” Eliot grumbled.

Parker shrugged. “So ask her?”

Eliot sighed and fished out his phone. The number he dialed rang exactly once.

“Perky?”

“Heya Botasky. Listen, Parker got a dog and she wants to name it after you.”

There was silence, then, “Oh my gosh you guys got a dog?!” Molly squealed.

“Yeah, but that’s not the point…”

“Of course you can name it after me, but that means I have to meet her!” Molly kept going. “What kind of dog? How old? Did you save her too?”

Eliot handed the phone off to Parker, and the two girls were quickly engaged in excited conversation. Eliot slumped at the table, and dog Molly wagged her tail at him eagerly.

Hardison smirked. “I’m just gonna remind you this was all your idea.”

Eliot groaned and thunked his head on the table.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is not what I set out to write tonight, but hey. Have a chapter two. 
> 
> In which Quinn is absolutely just here to check up on the dog. That's it. (Spoiler alert he's a lying liar.)

Quinn was running out of excuses to visit the Brewpub.

It had been fairly easy to get away with at first, claiming Molly’s breeder wanted to know how the pup was getting along in her new home. But as weeks turned into months turned into a year, that white lie was getting thin.

It had been awkward enough to refuse when Hardison had offered to set the breeder up with a private email like the one he’d set up so Molly the human could get a constant stream of photos of Molly the dog. Now that Molly the dog was officially no longer a puppy, it was getting increasingly difficult to explain his frequent stop-overs.

“Quinn! My man!”

Quinn waves at Hardison, crossing the bustling Brewpub floor with an ease born of a hitter’s heightened special awareness. “Hey. Eliot around?”

“Nah man.” Hardison answered, jotting down something on what looked suspiciously like Eliot’s carefully designed Brewpub menu. Quinn made a mental note to be long gone before Eliot found Hardison’s ‘edits’. “Parker somehow convinced him to help her test a jump harness for the dog.”

“What?”

Hardison shrugged. “Apparently, if we are gonna take Molly on jobs as Eliot’s backup, Parker has decided we need to have a secondary exit strategy for her. She did all this research on military dogs jumping out of helicopters and stuff with their handlers, and somehow she got Eliot to agree to do it.”

‘Somehow’ being ‘because she’s Parker’, since both Quinn and Hardison knew Eliot was categorically incapable of denying the thief anything. “Do it?” Quinn asked.

“Jump with the dog.” Hardison clarified. “Parker isn’t big enough to counterbalance her weight, so she has to jump with Eliot.”

Quinn narrowed his eyes, studying Hardison’s suspiciously innocent stillness. “And am I supposed to believe you aren’t filming this event?”

Hardison looked affronted. “Of course not. That would be very wrong.” He pulled a tablet from under the scattered menus. “Of course, if there are already security cameras in the area, well, I’m just making sure nothing goes wrong.”

“Of course.” Quinn agrees, seriously, hiding his smile at the sight of Parker strapping Molly to Eliot’s front like a baby.

By the time the windblown trio make it back to the Brewpub, Hardison and Quinn are sitting in front of the TV, all evidence of their surveillance tucked away on Hardison’s secret hard drive.

Molly’s tail wags frantically when she sees Quinn, but she waits patiently for Eliot’s release command before dashing to his side. Quinn laughs as she licks him, scratching her soft ears and muscled hindquarters.

Eliot grins at their antics, all soft and crinkle-eyed, the way he only is here with his family. It makes Quinn wonder, yet again, what it would be like to settle down. Eliot got lucky, he knows. Not every hitter gets to retire. Most don’t live as long as Eliot has, especially with the jobs Eliot once did. Quinn knows, he’s helped Eliot get rid of a few threats himself, mostly up-and-coming hitters trying to cash in on one of the many bounties on Eliot’s head. They’re lulled in by the rumor that Eliot’s gone soft, is out of the game. Both might be true, but what they didn’t realize was that an Eliot with something to protect was far more dangerous than a lone wolf hitter ever could be.

Eliot might be out of the game, but he would burn the board to ashes to save Parker and Hardison.

“Staying for dinner, Quinn?” Eliot asks, startling Quinn out of his thoughts.

“If you’ll have me.” He smiles back.

“Of course we’ll have you, silly.” Parker flips her hair back. “You’re part of the family.”

Quinn is a heartless professional, so those words absolutely do not make him go all soft and gooey inside. “Thanks Parker.”

Molly chooses that moment to ask to go outside, and the ensuing chaos of the pre-dinner dance gives Quinn plenty of time to get himself under control. Dinner is amazing, as usual, Eliot having outdone himself once again. Even Molly gets to join them, Eliot filling her bowl with a carefully prepared dog-safe blend of meat and veggies, a stripped down version of the dish he served to the human members of the family.

Quinn dug in to his portion with relish, using his full mouth as an excuse to stay out of the dinner conversation for the most part. Parker regaled them all with the story of their jumps, not knowing Quinn and Hardison had secretly watched it all. It was still fun to see her so obviously thrilled. Molly perked up her silky ears every time she heard her name. Once the dog bowl was licked clean, she trotted over to curl up on Eliot’s feet.

“I’m her favorite.” Eliot murmured to Quinn under Parker’s excited reenactment of their second jump. “She knows I’m the one who feeds her.”

“Smart dog.” Quinn whispers back. “Did you make her that adorable dog bed that’s in Lucille, too?”

Eliot flushes, looking away. “It was Hardison’s idea.” He grumbles. “He said she needed a comfy place to hang out when she wasn’t working.”

“And,” Quinn surmises quietly, “it makes you feel better to have her watching over Hardison when you aren’t there.”

“I will ask Molly to bite you.” Eliot growls.

Quinn just grins.

They eat another few bites.

“You know,” Eliot says slowly, “Parker was right.”

“Right about what?”

“You’re part of the family, Quinn. You can stop pretending you’re just here for the dog.”

Quinn is a heartless professional, and…

Screw that.

Maybe retiring in Portland wouldn’t be so bad after all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story is becoming more Quinn-centric by the chapter. I'm not sorry.

Retiring in Portland was an awful idea, Quinn decides.

For one, it rains constantly. And when it isn’t actively raining, there is still a damp stickiness to everything that makes his hair absolutely impossible to deal with.

Beyond that Hardison is genuinely the most annoying person Quinn has ever met. Wait, no, fine, Chaos was worse. But only slightly.

He’s also starting to think Parker is quite possibly insane.

There are two bright spots: Eliot himself, who Quinn had worked with enough that they were comfortably familiar, and Molly.

Molly the dog, that is.

Molly the human was… strange.

Quinn’s slow realization of what, exactly, he had signed up for when he joined Leverage International had started on one perfectly ordinary day about a month ago.

The day that Molly the human had arrived at the Bridgeport Brewpub, dragging along her college girlfriend Olivia Sterling to meet her canine namesake.

Quinn had been with Eliot in the Brewpub’s kitchen. While Quinn was nowhere near the cook that Eliot was, he knew how to use a knife. Since both Parker and Hardison were banned from the kitchen after unfortunate… incidents, and the Brewpub was short-staffed temporarily as several of the workers had gotten accepted into Toby’s culinary institute, Quinn had offered to help with prep.

He enjoyed the work, rhythmic and soothing, and the company even more. Eliot made a perfect companion for times like these. They moved easily together, no words needed between them as they sliced and chopped and danced around one another in the airy space.

He had gotten comfortable enough here, in Eliot’s space, to relax. To let his guard down.

Terribly dangerous for a man like him.

Which is why, when the door slammed open, Quinn had switched his knife from a chopping grip to a killing grip in a heartbeat, the finely sharpened blade inches from the girl’s throat.

He’d stopped himself, his heart pounding like a drum, but even if he hadn’t Eliot’s hand was a vice around his wrist, holding it back from the killing strike.

The girl laughed nervously, but Quinn could see steel in her gaze as she looked at Eliot. “Nice friends you got there, Perky.”

Eliot huffed, his grip loosening as the situation diffused. Quinn stepped back, abashed, setting the knife down with hands that trembled slightly. He swallowed hard, trying to choke off the adrenaline flooding his system.

“Quinn’s not so bad, Botasky.” Eliot put a steadying hand against the small of Quinn’s back. “He’s just a little jumpy. You should know better than to barge into someone’s space like that.”

“Yeah, I probably should.” The girl said, a bit blithely for someone who had nearly had her throat slit mere moments ago. “You wouldn’t let anything happen to me though, Perky.”

Eliot sighed, but there was a fondness to it. “Come ‘ere, you.”

The girl flung herself at him, and Eliot squeezed her back just as tightly.

“I suppose it’s safe to come out now, then?” A second voice asked from the doorway, sounding amused.

“Oh!” The girl in Eliot’s arms turned. “Perky, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, Olivia…”

“…Sterling.” Eliot finished in a growl. Quinn tensed again.

“You two know each other?” The girl, who Quinn had realized must be Molly, asked.

Olivia lifted her chin. “I am really sorry about that, you know. Drugging you wasn’t cool, but my father was just trying to protect me.”

“You drugged him?” Quinn and Molly said at the same time.

Olivia flushed. “Well, no, not me. My dad did. To protect me.” She looked at Eliot a bit nervously. “You aren’t, uh, still mad about that?”

Eliot rolls his eyes. “I’m not gonna hurt you, kid, if that’s what you’re worried about. Your dad had better stay out of my Brewpub though, if he knows what’s good for him.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Olivia smirked. “He’s not too fond of you either.”

Molly squirmed in Eliot’s grip. “Can we go see the dog now?”

Eliot sighed, looking over their abandoned prep. “Yeah. Give me a hand, would you?”

In short order the kitchen is mostly clean, and Eliot hands off the rest of the prep to the staff before escorting Quinn and the girls upstairs. Hardison and Parker are bent over a laptop, discussing something. Molly the dog is curled up at their feet, her head snapping up warily as she heard them approach.

“ _Easy._ ” Eliot murmured to her in her command language, Dutch. “ _Friends._ ”

Molly’s tail began to wag excitedly.

Eliot turned to the girls. “Keep you body language open and nonthreatening. Put out your hand so she can get your scent.”

The girls did as directed, Molly practically vibrating with glee.

“ _Come._ ”

Molly trotted over obediently, sniffing at the girls fingers.

“Ok.” Eliot smiled, satisfied. “She’s good. You can pet her now.”

Molly the human squealed, dropping to her knees to wrap her arms around the dog’s neck. The dog seemed quite happy with this arrangement, used as she was to Parker’s similarly exuberant expressions of love.

Hardison and Parker had approached now, Parker grinning down at the Mollys and Hardison looking at their other guest.

“Olivia, right?” He asked.

Olivia eyed him warily. “Yes. I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“Ah, no. You wouldn’t remember me, I suppose. I was… not myself at the time.”

Between the lengthy explanations of prior jobs and meetings, the plentiful doggy cuddles, and the girls’ tales of college escapades, the group passed an entertaining evening. Eliot had prepped a lasagna earlier in the day, and that along with a salad and garlic bread was their dinner. Both girls moaned happily at the taste of homemade food.

Somewhat scarily, Parker and Olivia seemed to hit it off right away, the two engaged in a conversation that sounded more like a chess match as Olivia helped Parker pick apart the plan she had worked up for the team’s latest con. Hardison was deep in discussion with Molly on the other side of the table, swapping college stories and bits of geeky knowledge.

Eliot was watching them all fondly, his whole posture relaxed and content. It settled something deep in Quinn’s chest.

He reached for Eliot’s hand, squeezing it lightly.

Eliot returned the gesture, his head cocking in question.

Quinn just shrugged, unable to put what he was feeling into words.

Eliot smiled, secretively, as if he knew. “The children are our future?” He murmured.

“Something like that.”

Something like that, indeed. It was an odd thought, for someone who had accepted long ago that people like him didn’t get a future. Not like this. Still, looking around the table, seeing this glimpse of possibility, it sparked something Quinn had never been able to dream of before this moment.

A legacy.

And to think it had all started with a dog.


End file.
